


love hymns

by princessoftheworlds



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Accidental Baby Acquisition, Fluff, Future Fic, I know that's not how the tag is used but it is also literally what happens, Ianto Jones Lives, M/M, Series 03 Fix-It: Children of Earth (Torchwood)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:20:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27500653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princessoftheworlds/pseuds/princessoftheworlds
Summary: Ianto and Jack find their quiet night in disrupted with the sudden appearance of one adorable Anwen Williams.
Relationships: Jack Harkness/Ianto Jones
Comments: 26
Kudos: 71





	love hymns

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to Noah/@mlmianto on twitter who makes excellent fancams. Written very quickly and distractedly while I was in class. Wooooo! Anyways, uhhhh, I don't know much about babies, and my baby expert is currently distracted so I hope it's okay and that you like it!

It’s a quiet Rift day, and Jack is stretched across the couch, Ianto cuddled into the side, the telly blaring a rerun of some reality television show, when there’s an urgent knock on the door of Ianto’s flat.

Groaning, Jack stumbles to his feet, stretching out sore muscles from yesterday’s Weevil hunt. Ianto fumbles for the remote, lowering the telly’s volume so that he can conveniently eavesdrop the conversation Jack’s been dragged in with their sudden visitor. 

“-please, Jack. I’ll owe you tremendously!” comes Gwen’s voice, pitched low and soothing despite the speed she’s whispering at. “We had such a nice night planned, and then the bloody sitter cancelled. Both our parents are busy, and you and Ianto are the closest and most convenient.” 

She inhales sharply as if she’s about to go on further before Jack hastily says, “Okay, okay. Of course we’ll look after her. We are her uncles after all.”

Ianto has a pit of dread growing in his stomach, and the sensation only worsens when Jack shuts the door and returns to the living room, a messy bag slung over one shoulder, a baby carrier in the other. He turns the carrier to reveal an angelic, sleeping baby Anwen.

Ianto bites back a curse.

* * *

Anwen is peaceful and wide-eyed and adorable up to the minute she discovers that neither Rhys or Gwen are around. After that, she screams bloody murder.

“How do we get her to stop?” hisses Ianto as he desperately rifles through the bag Gwen left behind. There’s a colorful pacifier, a neatly-folded baby blanket, some sort of soft toy, and assorted baby paraphernalia, half of which he hasn’t seen since he last visited Rhiannon shortly after David was born. “Is she hungry?”

Jack is seated on the couch, carefully cradling Anwen and bouncing her on his knee, making incoherently soothing noises to her. Upon hearing Ianto’s question, he shakes his head. “Gwen said she just ate not too long ago. Babies have to eat frequently but also not  _ that  _ frequently.”

“Then why is she screaming?” Ianto presses his lips together tightly, reminding himself that babies cannot be reasoned with like people.

Jack, ever so helpful, shrugs. “When Alice was screaming, she was either hungry or missing Lucia.” His eyes light up suddenly. “Are there any toys in there?”

Reaching for a rattle toy he’d previously seen, Ianto considers it. Then he tosses it to Jack, who catches it neatly, shaking it gently before Anwen.

“Look, Anwen,” he coos. “Look at the toy.” He shakes it again, and Anwen’s eyes widen, fixing upon the colorful toy, reaching up for it with her tiny hands. “Look! It makes noise.” Jack rattles it again.

Her fascination lasts about half a minute before she’s back to wailing again. Jack sighs and sets the toy aside before he cradles Anwen again and stretches to his feet, rocking her slightly and murmuring in a hushed voice as he paces around. 

Ianto sits in an armchair, shoulders slumped. It’s not as if Jack and Anwen don’t make quite an image. It’s a handsome man with an adorable baby, especially a baby with Gwen’s large eyes and toothy smile. 

Yet she keeps screaming.

Then Jack starts singing, voice quiet and melodic, words to a song Ianto doesn’t know, in a language Ianto doesn’t know, but his voice is happy. And he’s grinning, tightening his gentle grip around Anwen as he turns in a circle.

He’s on the next verse of the song when they hear a strange babbling coo coming from Anwen. Abruptly, Jack stops in surprise, and Ianto peers towards them. Anwen blinks large eyes up at Jack before inhaling as if beginning to cry again.

Hastily, Ianto motions for Jack to resume his singing, which he does. Anwen continues to babble before eventually laughing suddenly, causing Jack to smile widely, an expression so infectious that Ianto grins himself.

Jack sings and sings in this strange yet gorgeous language, waltzing closer and closer with Anwen in his arms until he hovers right beside Ianto’s armchair. Ianto cranes his neck up and pulls Jack down for a brief kiss before reaching to stroke Jack’s wrist. Finally, he ghosts a faint finger against Anwen’s cheek.

“I love you,” he tells Jack.

Jack beams. Then he continues singing.

* * *

Anwen asleep in her carrier again when Jack opens the door to an exhausted yet smiling Gwen. This time, Ianto stands behind Jack, chin resting tiredly on his shoulder.

“How was the date?” he asks Gwen.

Gwen winks at him. “Much needed. We had some lovely tiramisu. You and Jack should make a reservation at this restaurant.” And Ianto nods. Gwen turns to Jack: “How was she? I hope she didn’t give you too much trouble!”

“Just a little bit of screaming,” Jack jokes, and Gwen winces. “No, no. She was lovely. Adorable. Made me miss my own days as a father.”

As Jack shuts the door, Ianto presses against him and tangles their fingers together.

“What were you singing?” he murmurs to Jack.

Jack chuckles, the sound just a bit wet. “A song from Boeshane. A love song that parents sing to their children. I sang it to Alice.” He shrugs, but Ianto can see the suspicious sheen to his beautiful eyes. “Figured Anwen should hear it as well. She’s family, of course.”

“Do you want some of your own again?” he asks Jack softly, watching his expression carefully.

“Someday.” Jack grins at Ianto, the  _ with you _ going unsaid but definitely not unnoticed. “But we’ve got time.”

_ I’ve got time,  _ he means, Ianto knows.  _ I’ve got time with you. _

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr [here](http://princess-of-the-worlds.tumblr.com/) or on Twitter [here](https://twitter.com/rajkumarinik). I tweet and reblog mostly Torchwood with occasionally amusing commentary on nonsense. Please come talk to me and tell me if/how much you like my fic or like ask me about it on tumblr; all my schoolwork has become remote now, and I have limited social interaction.


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